Some would say that a death in the family would mar a holiday week. To that, I say, “Sometimes, but not always.”
Maxine McCord was born in 1918, during the First World War. She grew up in the United Kingdom, experiencing the boom of technology that the 1900′s brought, along with a depression, economic failures and triumphs, the Second World War, and watching America land on the moon. She knew Christopher Robin personally (yes, THE Christopher Robin) and owned a set of A.A. Milne books Christopher gifted to her. She volunteered with countless other wives during the war to help in medical camps.
Maxine gave birth to three children, one of which, Andrew, met and married my mother about 16 years ago. She outlived her husband and, tragically, her youngest son, Ian.
She told me this story once about when she was volunteering in the war. A young girl, teenager, found her way to one of their camps. She was terrified and filthy and in dire need of food and water. Maxine was one of the women who helped to take care of this girl. When it came time to bathe her, the girl wouldn’t go near the water. Something about it scared her to no end and no amount of coaxing or reassuring could get her near it.
After a time of trying, Maxine went to her belongings and pulled out a jar of green bath salts her husband had given her that she was saving for when he returned. She decided they could be replaced and poured the whole jar into the warm water. The water turned a gorgeous shade of green and smelled heavenly. So much so, the girl, now more curious than frightened, got in the water.
My grandmother, in addition to having a heart of gold and an absolute treasure trove of stories, was also extraordinarily proper and polite and stubborn as all get out. How my step-dad is one of the most patient, flexible people I know is beyond me.
In her later years, Maxine started to go deaf and blind. She still maintained her independence and stayed at home. Friends, family and, later, live-in care helped her out as much as she would let them but she never lost her stubborn independence nor her unwavering proper, polite demeanor.
Maxine passed away in her sleep in her own bed Tuesday, November 24 with her oldest son, Andy, there. She went as peacefully as anyone could ever hope for – just closed her eyes and went to sleep.
While sadness is indeed the first emotion I and my family have during this time, I am also extremely thankful this holiday season for her and the stories she shared with me. She opened up worlds to me that I only read about in history books and she instilled within me an undying love of Winnie the Pooh in his classic, original storybook form.
She was an amazing woman who was a mother to three wonderful children and a grandmother to even more and even managed to become a great-grandmother. I love her dearly and she will be missed.
Nursery Theme
